For most of my working life, I worked in a solid job. I climbed the career ladder for 15 years and became a Managing Partner in a large, market research agency. I had a great salary. I wasn’t paid the same amount as my male peers (I oversaw appraisals, and saw the salary spreadsheets…). But I still felt lucky because by and large it was a great company.
However, aged 40, when I had my first child, and was two weeks into maternity leave, I got a text saying that my role no longer existed. A few months later, there was an awkward lunch where it became clear that I wasn’t desirable, I was being demoted to a less senior role, and – they stressed -was lucky to have any role to return to at all. Of course, I should have done something, but I’d internalised the belief that mothers couldn’t return to the same high-pressure job they were doing before. It’s a common story for many, unfortunately.
I did return, then took voluntary redundancy a few years later: things were never the same as before I had children. I then pin-balled from one role to the next. I was like someone who’d just got out of a long-term relationship. None of these roles lasted more than six months.
Shorts
As I got into my late forties, I was paranoid that people would think I was too old for dynamic cultures. Interview processes became harder. They often asked whether I was “up for it” and I knew they were hinting. I was persuaded by recruiters to go for roles below my pay grade. “You’ll be unlikely to find anything as well paid as your previous job,” they said, “It’s a different climate.” Different in what way? Because I was older? I still had vast amounts of experience, had headed up entire offices, but already I could feel this creeping paranoia.
